Committing SUEicide
by Avada Cruimperio
Summary: Oneshot. What do you get when you mix OOCs, Mary Sues, and extremely overused plotlines? You don't want to know...


Committing Sue-icide

"I'm perfect!" declared Mirabelle Annette Rachel Yvonne Sally Urania Elizabeth Potter, gazing adoringly at herself in a mirror.

"Who're you?" asked Harry, squinting at her.

"Why, I'm your sister, silly!" Mirabelle announced.

"Oh, goody! I've got a sister!" Harry squealed.

"Guess what? I'm a foreign exchange student! From America!"

"No way! I've never met an American before. You're so cool!"

"And- and - AND I've got special powers! I'm a Seer and I've got telepathy and telekinesis and I can fly without a broomstick and I can be invisible on command! Aren't I special?" Mirabelle asked.

"I loathe you," announced Hermione. "Wait! No! I don't! Over the summer I've grown boobs the size of party balloons, straightened my hair, worn cool Muggle clothes even though most wizards at Hogwarts will laugh at my attire, and have been secretly in love with Draco ever since I saw him on the platform this morning!"

The door to the compartment popped open. "Did I hear my name?" asked a shirtless Draco.

Draco had also changed much over the summer. He had a six-pack from Quidditch workout, even though it's never been mentioned that Quidditch required physical training, his hair was light and sexy, and his eyes had miraculously changed from gray to blue.

"Draco! I love you!" squealed Hermione.

"Me too! I'm Head Boy!"

"I'm Head Girl!"

"Shall we shag?"

"Oh, yes, let's!"

They skipped out of the room to find an empty compartment.

Mirabelle stared at Ron. Mirabelle's hair is currently described as cascading waves of luxurious tresses comparable to the rich shade of chocolate licorice, but will change throughout the story so the readers think the author has a big vocabulary. The point of that run-on sentence is that Mirabelle was staring at Ron, who was staring back and getting hornier by the second.

"You're hot," he said. "Wicked!"

"Well, you know, I must have romantic relations with all the male characters in this story, so Ron, if you want you can be first." Mirabelle resumed admiring herself in her compact.

"Really? Wow! Do we get to shag?" Ron asked eagerly. "Wicked!"

"Ew! Perv! I'm done with you."

Ron sighed sadly. "Not wicked."

The train arrived at Hogwarts, and everyone got inside the carriages. Draco and Hermione kept staring at each other sickeningly, and if Harry hadn't been so busy thinking about how depressed and sad he was about all the depression and sadness in his life, and contemplating getting his suitcase out and cutting himself right then and there, he would have decided that every time Hermione looked at Draco, she lost about ten thousand brain cells.

Mirabelle was immediately placed into Gryffindor, even though she's smarter than (old) Hermione and could have been in Ravenclaw. She ate a lot of food but never gained an ounce, which makes all the readers despise her even more.

Later that night, Harry and his sister were alone in the Gryffindor common room.

"Oh, Harry," she said casually, brushing her hair, "did I mention that I'm Voldemort's daughter? My middle name is Voldemortina, you know."

"But," Harry said, looking confused. "If you're my sister, but Voldemort's your dad, why do you look like me, since I look like James?"

"But-" Mirabelle began.

"And why's your last name Potter, then?"

"Well-"

"And why the hell would my mum sleep with Voldemort? She's Muggle-born!"

"Shut up!" Mirabelle whined. "You're ruining my perfectness!"

"Oh. Sorry. I'll just go snog Ginny."

"And Draco," his sister reminded him.

"Draco's shagging Hermione."

"I thought Hermione was snogging Ron?"

"No, no, Ron's definitely snogging Snape," Harry said.

"Then who am I gonna snog?" Mirabelle pouted.

"Yourself?" Harry suggested.

"That's not fair!" Mirabelle shouted. "I have to have at least fifteen romantic interests in this story! And since I can't have you, since you're my brother, that leaves, like, not as many!"

"What was that?" Harry asked, putting away a razor. "I wasn't listening. Too busy cutting myself. I'm depressed, you know. Ever since Sirius died."

"But that was two books- I mean years ago!" said the all-knowing Mirabelle. "Aren't you over it?"

"Not really. Neither is Lupin, mind you. They were… _involved_."

"When you say involved…"

"I mean _involved_."

"That's okay! I'm not anti-gay! I'm not anti-anything! I'm just anti-sad and anti-depressed!"

Hermione climbed through the portrait hole, followed by a giggling and naked Ron. "We just shagged on McGonagall's desk," Hermione said.

"I thought you were in love with Draco," Mirabelle said.

"Shut up. I loathe you."

"What Hermione means, is, we decided that we've loved each other since second year and while Draco is a good shag on the side, she loves me more, right, hon?" Ron explained. "Wicked!"

Hermione twisted a lock of shiny hair around her finger. "Duhh, what's _Hogwarts, A History?_"

"Do what's right, Harry," spoke a familiar voice.

They all turned to see Sirius staring at them.

"Dude, aren't you dead?" asked Ginny.

"I'm back, biotch!" Sirius cried. "Time to shag everything that moves!"

"And some that don't," added Mirabelle.

"Far out!" agreed Dumbledore.

"Dude, aren't you dead, too?" asked Ginny.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Nah! Time to go smoke some marijuana, 'cause I'm a hippy!"

"You know, not all hippies did drugs," Hermione said.

"Hermione! You're supposed to be dumb!" Ron stage-whispered. "Wicked!"

"Oh, right," said Hermione. "Um… Let's go get our nails done!"

"Okay!" agreed all the girls and Draco.

Harry turned to glare at the authoress scribbling away in the corner.

"Idiot!" he said. "What's with all the proper capitalization, punctuation, and spelling?"

"oh" Said the Authorees. "okay. sorry about that. It's kinda said that I know enough about shaggng an cant speel to save mi lyf"

"s'okay" said Harry "now that ur not puntuating the end of stuff nd using internet lingo, ur ok"

"gud"

Hermione looked offended at the lack of respect for the English language. "See, I'm a bookworm again, now. I'm desperate for romance, but Ron doesn't know I love him, and vice versa."

"stop all the gud speeling" Said the author "ur making me lok stoopid"

"It's really not that difficult," said Hermione. "And start fixing your errors before I hex the living crap out of you."

"Fine," muttered the authoress. "Anyways, I'm done with my self-insertation. You guys can go confront Voldemort for the final battle, now."

"But-the-adda-wibba!" Hermione stuttered. "We've been back at school for, what, ten hours? And what about the Horcruxes?"

"Too bad," said the authoress. "I wrote this before that sixth book. And I've never read the books. I've just seen the movies. Tom Felton is sooo cute!"

Draco retched.

Voldemort appeared in the room. "It's time for me to kick your arse once and for all, Potter!"

"NEVER!" cried Mirabelle, who I bet you've forgotten all about. "Die, Dad! Abra Cadabra!"

Voldemort died.

"Dude, it's _Avada Kedavra_," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Oh, shit!" cried Mirabelle. "I gotta shag everyone before the story's over! Come along, boys!"

Hermione watched Mirabelle leave the room with all the males in Hogwarts in tow. "I loathe you."

"I love you!" cried Mirabelle.

"Me too!" cried Hermione. "Femslash!"

"Wicked!" said Ron.

**A/N: And that's the end of the most screwed-up one-shot you'll ever read. If enough people like it, maybe I'll do a sequel with the Marauders, or turn this into an actual not-one-shot story. Who know? Review, if you please. Much love!**


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